


The Breakfast Club

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Breakfast Club (1985), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Detention, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, Frenemies, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Recreational Drug Use, The Breakfast Club - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 17:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12562468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: Prompt Fill “You asked for prompts. I have one that I would love to see come to life. I don't know how old you are, so I'm not sure if you know the movie. I would love a Rick/Daryl version of The Breakfast Club or Sixteen Candles-that just popped into my head. That sounds AWESOME to me. Lol.- Cdlowe8 “





	The Breakfast Club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Many thanks to Nelgal for the beta!! My hats off to you!
> 
> The prompt Cdlowe8 gave me reminded me that I've been meaning to do this for years. So alas here it is!
> 
> Edited: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! I posted without the beginning!!! If you read before 4:31 est— please read again! Do sorry!!

Rick was the first person to arrive in the library for Saturday detention. It was the first time he’d gotten in trouble in all his four years at Alexandria High, and he didn’t regret it. His father wasn’t thrilled, but his father was never thrilled. Rick sat in the front seat as he heard car doors slamming shut outside the window. He hoped there wasn’t going to be anyone in detention that gave him trouble. There weren’t too many of the other students that picked on him and hopefully, after last week it would be less. Rick stayed silent and watched as the other detainees arrive.

Abraham, the quarterback of the football team, came in next and plopped down in a seat behind Rick. Abe was a legend at Alexandria High and Rick couldn’t imagine what he could have done to get detention. He was a bit of an asshole, but surely he’d be given a pass for any infractions because of his status on the team. They were 5-0 so far this season and scouts were already watching Abraham play. 

Rick knew the of next kid, too. Glenn Rhee was a Sophomore but he took some of the senior classes. He’d heard rumors that the Rhee kid was going to be skipping 11th and 12th and going straight to MIT. Glenn was a straight A student, a tutor, a perfectionist, and someone who never rocked the boat. This was not going to look good on his application to MIT, but Rick assumed the 25 college credits he already had would still make him a shoe in. Rick had a senior lit class with him, but Glenn was always given separate work. He didn’t talk much, but he didn’t get picked on either. He was kinda just...invisible.

Rick, Abraham and Glenn all looked up at the door as a dark-skinned girl with long dreads came in, trudged to the back table with her head down, and falling into her chair. Rick had just started seeing her around but had never heard her speak. She was a new girl who came in mid-year. Having to change your whole life in the middle of Senior year would have been a nightmare for Rick. He’d struggled enough to maintain the friendships he had and to keep the harassment to a minimum. Better the devil you know, he figured. 

The quiet one always sat by herself at lunch and sometimes Rick would see her walking home from school. She seemed to have a bit of a chip on her shoulder but appeared timid at the same time. He had no idea what might have brought her to detention. She never seemed to interact with anyone.

Rick turned back to face front. It should be a long, quiet, damn day. He was glad his cell was fully charged because he was anticipating eight straight hours of Candy Crush before he could go home. Maybe he’ll finally fucking beat that damn game.

After five or six minutes of silence, the doors burst open and the Dixon kid walked in. Rick couldn’t say he was surprised to see the known trouble-maker in detention. Daryl Dixon made his way to the back row as he glared at each of the other students and took a moment to remove the gum from his mouth and stick it on the corner of Glenn’s table. Glenn just smiled and nodded. Not rocking the boat. 

Rick kept his eyes on Daryl. He was trouble, came from a rough neighborhood and seemed to hate the world. But he was something else to look at- strong arms with defined muscle and dark blue eyes like the deep of the ocean. Even frowning or scowling he looked smolderingly sexy. He may be dirty, from the wrong side of town, dangerous...but Rick could not help but be mesmerized by him. He’d love to know what it was that made the Dixon kid so angry about everything. There had to be more to him than what he let people see.

Daryl looked up and noticed Rick staring. “You got a cell phone?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Rick answered.

“Then why don’t you take a picture, Dick.”

Rick knew Daryl had the reputation of being an asshole. 

“It’s Rick,” Rick said.

“Okay, _Dick_. I’ll be sure to enter it into my contacts list correctly. Then we can be best friends and text each other all day with heart emojis.”

Rick turned back to the front of the room. Maybe the day wasn’t going to be so quiet after all. Daryl was known for not being able to keep his mouth shut. And Rick had a sense that he should keep his eyes to himself. He might get pounded if he was caught admiring the guy.

Suddenly the library doors burst open again and Principal Negan walked in with his cocky saunter and the baseball bat he always had hanging over his shoulder, a constant reminder of what he’d have rather been than a High School principal.

“Well lookie here, the best of the best,” Negan started. “I hope you have your shitting pants on because you five will not move a muscle without my say so for the rest of the day. You’re asses belong to me. That means no trips to the bathroom, no water fountain, no eating, no sleeping, no talking...nothing without my say so.”

“Mr. Negan, sir,” Dixon said, his voice flooded with sarcasm. “Are we allowed to breathe? Because I saw the red headed concussion-waiting-to happen just inhale.”

Abe turned in his chair, squaring his shoulders for a fight.

“He moved!” Dixon shouted. “Well, it was nice getting to know you, Concussion. Negan- guess it’s time for him to walk the plank.”

“Dixon- you got next Saturday too, since you’re so eager to sit here and obey my every word. You see, Dixon, it don’t matter what you do, you’re always gonna be trash, your daddy is trash, your brother is trash and you’re trash. It’s the fucking circle of life.”

Christ, Rick thought. This was the principal close up and personal? He must put on a show for the rest of the school. Is this the way he always talks to the kids in detention? Rick swallowed the wrong way from the surprise and started coughing. 

“You’re Rick, right?” Negan asked, staring at him after looking at a piece of paper he held in a clipboard.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, Rick. I do not appreciate you starting trouble in my school.”

“I actually wasn’t the…”

“Did I tell you to talk, Rick? I did not. You’ve done enough, don’t you think? Someone like _you_ shouldn’t be sitting here in detention for fighting. Someone like _you_ should have knelt and taken what was being handed out. It’s the natural order of things.”

Rick was stunned silent.

“Mr. Negan?” Glenn said with his hand raised. “Are we allowed to work on our homework?”

“Mr. Negan, Are we allowed to work on our homework?” Daryl mocked. 

“Two more Saturdays, asshole,” Negan shouted pointing at Daryl. “You wanna make it three?”

“Well, I had plans for dinner and some under the skirt action with your Mama, but I could cancel.” 

“Shut up,” Rick hissed, looking back at the school’s biggest idiot. What was he thinking?!!

Negan slammed the bat down on Daryl’s desk so hard, Rick was surprised it didn’t break. “The month of October is mine now, Dixon. You won’t see the light of day again. Now don’t you test me boy. I’m pretty sure no one will notice or care if I get a shot in with Lucille. Broken wrist? Black eye? Won’t be anything new.” 

Dixon glared daggers at Negan with narrowed, angry eyes as the Principal turned back to Glenn.

“No homework, Rhee. You’ll just have to suffer in a room with these nincompoops. How the fuck you managed to get your ass in so much trouble is beyond me. How can a genius be so goddamn dumb?” 

“Hey, man, you don’t gotta be a shit heal about it,” Abraham said, speaking up from his spot. Negan swung around to stare him down. “I’m just saying,” Abe continued, “unless he’s been suckin’ at your tit and I wasn’t aware of it, you ain’t his mama.”

Negan moved to stand in front of Abe. “You are the biggest disgrace here,” he said slowly and with venom. “Abraham Ford, Quarterback of the finest High School football team in the county. You know what kind of perks we get if we have a pro player come out of this pathetic excuse for a High School?”

“All due respect, you ain’t my mama neither. You want to punish us all, give us a numb ass and a time-out? That’s fine. But I’m not listening to your bullshit. Why don’t you swing that antique, phallic overcompensation at _me_ and see if anyone notices.”

“Now concussion, be easy on Negan here. His wife wears the pants in the family and I think his balls are probably still in her purse,” Daryl said.

“That’s enough,” Negan yelled. He started handing out paper and pencils. “I want you each to write me an essay about who the hell you think you are.” He paused at the mysterious girl in the corner. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.

“Mystery over there doesn’t talk, sir.” Daryl said, then whispered “She was born without a tongue.”

Rick watched as Dixon pressed his pencil into the desk until the tip snapped. “Oh shit, Captain. My pencil broke.”

“Then you can share with one of your classmates,” Negan growled.

The quiet girl in the back leaned forward and handed Daryl her pencil. He took it and snapped the tip on that one, too. 

“Oh balls, Captain Negan. This one broke, too. Too soft I guess, can’t stay hard like Dick up there who's probably going to jack off to a picture of me as soon as you leave. Are we _allowed_ to jack off, sir? You ain’t said.”

“Oh gross,” Glenn muttered.

“What's the matter Chinaman? You ain't found your dick yet?”

“I'm Korean,” Glenn said firmly.

“Whatever.”

Negan walked back to the front of the room. “Enough! Quiet time starts now and there's a pencil sharpener in the back. My office,” Negan pointed, “is right across the hall. If I hear any commotion - a sneeze, a hiccup…”

Daryl burped loudly but Negan didn’t take the bait. 

“I'm coming back in to start cracking skulls,” the principal finished as he lowered his bat to the side.

Daryl stood and saluted him as he left.

Once Negan was gone, Rick sighed and pulled out his cell to check out Aaron’s Facebook page. He frowned. There it was. Aaron changed his relationship status to In A Relationship. Rick dropped his head in his hand. They’d been broken up for three weeks and he’s already seeing that Eric kid. Fuck. Rick switched over to Candy Crush instead and started on level 43.

“What are you writing, man?” Abe asked Glenn from behind him.

Glenn chewed on his pen cap, thinking before he answered. “Ummm I guess like what I am...what I’m gonna be.”

“And what do you want to be when you grow up?” Dixon asked as if he were talking to a child. “A superhero? The President of the United States? A few feet taller?”

“Fuck off,” Abe said as he turned back to glare at Daryl. “No one wants to hear from that hole in your face and if you think your attitude makes us all think you got steel cojones, you’re wrong. I could chew you up and spit you out backwards, twice on Fridays. So put a plug in it douchebag.”

“Ooohhh. Wow. That was really intimidating, Concussion. I’m pissing my pants back here.”

“Daryl, just shut the fuck up, man,” Rick finally said. He always played the role of peacemaker, at school and at home. “Let’s just be quiet and get through the day.”

“Look, _Dick_. Don’t go using my name like you know me. You don’t know shit.”

Rick put his cell down and turned all the way around to face Daryl directly. “I know that only chickenshits hide behind all that badass talk. If you were a real badass you wouldn’t have to try to prove it with insults all the time.”

Glenn’s mouth turned into an O. 

“Now Grimes there has cojones. Bet you shit steele, man,” Abraham said to Rick.

“So I’m not a badass? Hmm. Interesting theory,” Daryl answered as he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket. He flipped it open and threw it to the front door of the room where it stuck in place right in the middle of the A in LIBRARY.

“Am I supposed to be scared now?” Rick asked.

“Guys, I think throwing knives at school property will probably get us all in more trouble.”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Brain,” Daryl said as he stood and headed to the front of the room to retrieve his weapon.”

“I just think we should all write our papers,” Glenn said.

“What for? Negan already thinks he knows us. If I tell him that I’m someone full of potential that has it beaten out of him by his old man’s belt day in and day out...do you think he’d believe that? No- he’d just say I was a loser, a waste of space.”

“Is that true?” the girl in back asked, speaking up for the first time.

“She has a voice, ladies and gentlemen!” Daryl announced. “What’s your name anyway, Mystery?”

“Michonne.”

“Well, Michonne, if you don’t believe me, why don’t you tell me who you think YOU are.”

“Nobody’s business,” she muttered.

Rick kept his eyes on Daryl wondering if his claims could be true. Maybe that’s how he got such a big chip on his soldier. 

“If you make enough noise for that dickhole Negan to come back in,” Abraham growled, “I’m gonna pound you into the ground so hard…”

“Yeah, yeah, Concussion. I know. You are soooo strong. You are the quarterback of the football team. You could snap my neck like a twig. I’m impressed,” Daryl answered. Then he leaned towards Michonne and loudly whispered. “I’m actually not really impressed. Just trying to tame the savage beast.”

“Hey, Abe,” Rick said, trying to change the subject to something less aggressive. “You think the team’s gonna win against the Hilltop next weekend?”

Abe looked at Rick. “Probably.” He started twirling his pencil in his hand nervously. “You know, I wasn’t there for that shit in the locker room. Phillip and Gareth are assholes and I’m sure they deserved the punches you landed.”

Rick was surprised that Abe even brought it up. He knew they were all friends from the team. “It’s okay. Shit like that happens all the time.”

“Shit like that shouldn’t ever happen,” Michonne said.

“No, I guess it shouldn’t,” Rick agreed as he watched Daryl hop up on a short bookshelf and light up a cigarette. 

Glenn looked up from his paper. “I’m pretty sure smoking in the school will get you another detention day.”

“Aww. You worried about me, Brain?” Daryl asked as he puffed out circles of smoke towards the ceiling. 

“You keep doing that, we’ll all get our nuts chewed,” Abe whispered with one eye on the door. “Put it out before Negan comes back in here.”

“Want a puff? See how the other half lives?”

As Abe stood, Daryl flicked the lit cigarette over to Glenn’s desk and his blank sheet of paper caught fire. 

“Shit, shit!! I’m gonna get in trouble for this,” Glenn yelled as he tried to use his jacket to smother the fire. 

Michonne walked up to him and poured a bottle of water over his desk to extinguish the flames. 

“You fuck with him again, Dixon, and I’ll kick your ass. You’re not the only one around here that carries a knife.” She sat back down in her spot and went back to flipping through her cell phone.

“Thank you,” Glenn said, looking back at her. 

“My bad, bro. That was on me,” Dixon said. “Take my sheet of paper. I ain’t gonna write shit anyway.”

“Why not?” Rick asked. “You’ll probably get another day’s detention. I think you’re up to three more already.”

“Four, actually,” Glenn said. He focused back on his paper as Dixon glared him down.

Suddenly the door swung open and Negan came in, sniffing the air. Dixon flew back to his seat and folded his hands on his desk.

“What the hell’s going on in here you sorry shits?”

No one answered and Negan banged his bat on Rick’s table, making everyone jump. 

“Someone’s been smoking in here and Rick, you’re going to tell me who it was.”

Rick cocked his head at Negan, thinking about what Daryl’s life must really be like. He kinda felt sorry for the guy. Felt like he wanted to protect him from this pretentious prick of a principal. “Ummm… I don’t smell anything, sir. Are you sure it was coming from this room?”

Negan pointed his bat at Glenn. “You. Who was it?”

“Umm...with all due respect, sir, cigarettes aren’t allowed on school property.”

“That’s true,” Abe and Michonne said at the same time.

“This is bullshit. We all know it was Dixon,” he said as he walked to the back table. “You are practically on your knees begging me for another Saturday, aren’t you boy?”

“I didn’t see anyone smoking in here, sir. Are you sure it’s not just a fart? Concussion up here’s been a little gassy.”

“Fuck you, Dixon,” Abe snarled.

“I don’t want any more grief from you delinquents. I mean it. I will shut that shit down. And Dixon, you keep at it and I’ll make your life as miserable here as it is at home.” Negan left the room and everyone turned back to look at Daryl.

“He don’t own us,” Daryl said. “He just says shit like that to get in your head, Concussion. Brush it off.”

Daryl brought one of his broken pencils to the sharpener on the wall and sharpened it until it was barely more than an eraser.

“I think you’re in my woodshop class,” Glenn said to Michonne. “Came in mid semester?”

Michonne just glared at him wordlessly. 

“I’m just taking woodshop so it looks well-rounded for college. Already have the scholarship but it still doesn’t hurt.”

“You’ll probably get one for football,” Rick said to Abraham. “Scholarship, I mean. I’ve seen you play.”

“Wait a minute,” Daryl interrupted as he was sharpening his second broken pencil into oblivion. “What is a queer doing watching football. Is it just to see the tight asses? I mean tight ends?”

“Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I automatically don’t like sports. That’s stereotyping.” Rick answered.

“Oh, and you don’t stereotype me? What do you see when you look at me, Grimes? You see someone whose panties are in a wad about college applications? Or do you see a dirtbag from the other side of the tracks? Probably a thief, a pothead. Go on, what do you see?”

“For the record,” Glenn interrupted. “I see a really cool leather vest.”

Daryl looked over with his mouth dropped open.

“I mean...it just seems like you’re this cool, confident guy. I’d like to have some of those traits,” Glenn continued.

“I see someone who’s hiding,” Rick answered, turning away from Daryl to look at his unfinished game of Candy Crush.

“I ain’t afraid of shit, _Dick_. I don’t hide from no one.”

“What about your old man?” Michonne asked. “Comes home drunk looking to take out some aggression with his belt. You don’t hide from that?”

“I ain’t nobody’s bitch. I take it like a man, more than any of you pussies would be able to do.”

“I don’t believe you,” Michonne said.

“Don’t believe what? That my life is shit?” Daryl yelled. He pulled off his vest and fought his way out of his white T-shirt to expose a wealth of whip marks, some still bloody and some formed into older white bumpy scar. There were bruises on his shoulders and some burn marks on his arm. Everyone in the room gasped quietly.

He dressed again. “And ask me how many times I cried. Go on! Ask me!”

“How many?” Rick asked his voice soft with sympathy.

“Not. Fucking. Once.”

Abraham turned around in his chair. “Don’t think you have the market on a shit life, asshole!” Rick and Glenn jumped at the sudden burst of yelling.

“Aww, sorry Concussion. Is it tough for you to be surrounded by cheerleaders all day, being Mr. Popular. Is all that special treatment making too much pressure?”

“You think I want this? Being pushed all day everyday from my father who is hellbent on me being a football player like he was? I don’t give a monkey’s right nut about going to college, I don’t want to play football. You have any idea the pressure I get from the school and my dad. It’s like I got no say in my own life. It’s like I’m ass high in quicksand and the mosquitos are out. You got an old man that doesn’t give a shit? Then leave. Fucking go where someone like you would go. I can’t get away. I’ll never be able to.”

Everyone was silent for a while until Abe sat back down.

“What do you _want_ to do?” Michonne asked.

“Be a Navy Seal. Serve my country. Stick my boot in the ass of America’s enemies. Use my strength for something that has meaning. Not being a pawn in someone else’s frivolous, meaningless game of chess.”

“So why don’t you sack up and tell you’re old man?” Daryl asked.

“Same reason you don’t, probably,” Rick said.

“What do you know about it, _Dick_? Mommy and Daddy not take it well that their son likes it up the ass? Won’t never get no grandbabies. Mommy have to dab at her tears with a kerchief?”

Rick tried not to let Dixon know he was getting to him. He shook his head and looked back down at his cell.

“Seriously, what did your parents say when they found out?” Glenn asked. “Where they disappointed when you turned out to be something they didn’t expect?”

Rick ran a hand through his wavy hair and sighed. “My mom was horrified. Wanted to know why I would do something like this to her.” He kept his eyes on his cell phone as he answered.

“How does your dick taking a deep dive into some other dude’s ass have anything to do with her?” Abraham asked.

Rick shrugged.

“So she ever come around? Accept you?” Daryl asked.

Rick shrugged again and answered as he kept his eyes on his cell phone. “She didn’t need to. She left the house that night upset. Got in a car accident and died.”

“Holy shit,” Michonne muttered.

“My Ma’s dead too,” Daryl answered with less animus than usual.

“Guess we got more in common than you thought,” Rick said with a weak smile.

“What about you, Mystery?” Daryl asked Michonne. “You pissed your folks dragged you to a new school in the middle of senior year?”

Everyone turned in their chair and waited patiently for her answer. “Didn’t come here for them. Came for me.”

“Christ how bad a school were you at? Cause this place is worse than nut sweat,” Abraham said.

Michonne looked down, picking at her nails instead of responding.

“Come on, Mystery. Out with it. Ain’t playin’ fair to hear all our shit and not air out your own dirty laundry.”

“I have dirty laundry,” Glenn said.

“So what’s your story?” Rick asked before Daryl could start picking on the kid again.

“Well, I’m in here because I was trying to burn one of my tests in the bathroom,” Glenn started.

“You shittin’ with me?” Daryl interrupted. “ _You_ were the kid who burned down the science wing?”

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose. I factored in the lack of wind, the length of burn time and probability that no one else would come in since the final bell rang.”

“So what went wrong then?” Abe asked.

“Umm...I don’t really remember. I think I saw the door move and thought someone was coming in. I had a panic attack and when I finally pulled myself together, I was in one of the stalls and the toilet paper was on fire.”

“I can’t believe that was you,” Abe said. “You know my locker was right there. You destroyed my backpack.”

“I’m sorry,” Glenn said, his eyes back on his blank paper.

“No problem. Never really used it anyway,” Abe answered.

“You always get them?” Michonne asked from the back.

“Get what?” Glenn asked, turning around.

“Panic Attacks.”

“Sometimes,” he said. Then he paused. “A lot of times.”

“You should see someone for that. There’s things that help.” Michonne put her purse on the desk and started routing through it. I got Xanax, Clonopin, Trazadone for sleep…”

“You rob a pharmacy?” Rick asked.

“They’re all my prescriptions,” Michonne said, her expression still mostly blank.

“Well, I can’t do those things. My parents won’t let me go to a therapist or anything. Afraid it will look bad on my record,” Glenn answered.

“What record?” Abe asked. “Ain’t that shit supposed to be personal?”

“My parents don’t want to risk anyone finding out that their son isn’t perfect.”

“Christ, kid. And I thought I had problems,” Abe said.

“Everyone’s got problems,” Michonne said.

“So what’s yours?” Rick asked. “Why are you in here?”

Michonne glared at him and never answered as she lowered her head to the desk.

As the morning passed, Glenn was writing and erasing with ferver, Daryl was chomping on gum loud enough to wake the dead, occasionally blowing a bubble and letting it pop. Rick had the music down on his game of Candy Crush but occasionally burst out with a “YES!” when he completed a level. Abe was playing some kind of combat game with the volume on low and Michonne was snoring.

Michonne stayed asleep for probably a good two hours. Seemed like the dead couldn’t even wake her. Glenn was talking to himself as he worked on his paper and Rick was bored with Candy Crush, Facebook and Twitter. Daryl tapped out In-A-Gotta-Da-Vida on his desk with his thumbs….for the seventh time in a row. Eventually, despite the fact that there was yet another reprise when Daryl got to the end, Rick rested his head on the desk like Michonne and drifted off.

“Lunchtime, Losers,” Negan announced as his bat hit Rick’s desk and woke him with a start. “And what did I say about sleeping?”

Daryl stood. “I can lead the group to the cafeteria, sir,” he said as he saluted the principal.

“You can sit your ass back in that chair and zip those lips. You’ll eat here and you have twenty minutes to do it.”

Daryl raised his hand and waited patiently for Negan to call on him.

“WHAT!?” Negan yelled.

“Will you be supplying us with chocolate milk, sir? None of us brought drinks.”

Rick coughed with exaggeration. “Yeah, and I’m really thirsty from being quiet all morning,” he added. That earned Rick a nod and a quasi-smile from Daryl.

“My parents will get really mad if I don’t get the proper amount of Dairy each meal,” Glenn said, straight-faced.

“I’m gonna need about six of ‘em. Big man, big milk. Unless you want me to be too weak for the game next week,” Abe added.

“Alright, enough,” Negan said. “You...and you,” he said pointing to Rick and Abe. Go to the cafeteria and get the milks out of the cooler and get your asses right back here.”

Rick and Abe stood and left the room behind Negan. They strolled down the big empty hallways of the quiet school. “What did you do to get detention anyway,” Rick asked.

“Picked a fight with Gareth and Philip after the last practice,” Abe answered.

Rick stopped and eyed the broad, tall football player. “Why?”

“Well, I got a cousin, Tara. She’s gay too and I don’t like what I hear about her troubles with other students. Heard them bragging about getting away with it since you swung first.”

“You did that for me?” Rick asked, completely puzzled.

“Well, remember, I _am_ trying to get kicked off the team anyway. But yeah, I started some shit with them and threw the first punch.”

“Is that why I hadn’t seen Phillip in school Thursday and Friday.”

“Probably. Trying to let his black eye heal up before he shows back up.”

They continued heading to the cafeteria.

“Well, thanks,” Rick said, still dumbfounded. Kindness from strangers was a rare thing, and kindness to queers was even rarer.

By the time they got to the cafeteria they heard a hell of a racket in the kitchen and ran in to check it out. Daryl was on the floor covered in dust from the ceiling tile that he fell through.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rick asked.

“Just wanted to see if you boys needed any help.”

“You crawled through the goddamn duct work? Abraham asked, looking up at the hole in the ceiling.

“I know my way around. You bag up the cocktails. I’m gonna run to my locker around the corner and take care of the entertainment,” Daryl said as he disappeared out the door.

“What the hell does that mean?” Rick shouted.

Abraham opened the fridge and started grabbing about a dozen chocolate milks.

“You think that means drugs?” Rick asked Abe.

“Well I doubt he keeps a mariachi band in his locker.”

When Daryl returned he was smiling from ear to ear. “Alright boys. See you back on the other side.” He climbed onto the serving table and hoisted himself back into the ceiling.

“You think all that shit he was saying is true?” Abe asked as they walked back to the library.

Rick shrugged. “How else would he get all those scars?”

“I always thought he was just for show, y’know. Loud mouth looking for attention.”

“Oh, he’s _still_ a loud mouth looking for attention,” Rick said with a grin. 

They walked back into the library as Daryl was dropping out of an open ceiling tile.

Glenn already had his bag open and was eating a proper lunch, turkey sandwich, chips, an apple and a ziplock with two oreo cookies in it.

Michonne was peeling an orange with her sharp nails.

“Ah! The dairy farmers are back, gang!” Daryl said as Abe unloaded the bag of milk.

Rick pulled out his lunch bag and looked inside. His father had put in a tupperware container with leftover take out from the night before.

“Hey, Dick, what’s for lunch?” Daryl asked as he slurped loudly at a milk he’d already finished.

“Leftovers,” Rick answered. He missed home cooked meals. He missed sitting down to dinner with his parents and talking about his day. His dad hardly grunted a hello each morning. Rick knew his father was still holding Rick to blame for his mother’s death.

“What are _you_ eating?” Abraham asked Daryl.

The constant trouble-maker reached into a pocket and pulled out a wad of gnarled up brown stuff. “Homemade deer jerky. Nothing but the best at the Dixon house.”

“That real deer jerky?” Rick asked. “You get the deer.”

“Fuck yeah, I did,” Daryl answered as he bit into it.

“I’ll trade you one of my sandwiches for a piece of it,” Abraham offered. 

Daryl threw a stick of jerky over to him. “How many goddamn sandwiches did mommy and daddy pack for you, big boy?”

“Four. They don’t want me to loose my bulk. You want tuna or turkey?”

Daryl said turkey and Rick watched as the kid took it reverently out of Abraham’s hand and opened the ziplock like it was a rare treasure.

He ate like starved prisoner but Rick couldn’t look away, especially as he licked his fingers clean afterwards.

Negan came in wordless with a can and walked around to each student so they could deposit their trash. When he got to the back, Daryl spit in it and looked up at Negan, eager for a fight, almost daring the man to throw a punch, but the principal ignored him. Once at the front of the room he turned back. “There ya go. Lunch is over. Now you only have five hours left.” And he turned and left the room.

“Five fucking hours? The clock over the door says only three!” Abe said, exasperated.

Daryl was flossing his teeth with a thread from his jacket. “Oh yeah. He does that every week to fuck with us.”

“That fucking asshole,” Rick growled.

“Well, I haven’t even started my essay, so I guess I’m glad for the time,” Glenn said as everyone in the room crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at him.

“Brain, there’s a time for writing essays and there’s a time for seeing sounds.” Daryl pulled out a big bag of weed from the front of his pants. “It’s time for some after lunch entertainment.

“How close has that bag been to your junk?” Abe asked.

“Not close enough for Dick up there.” Daryl stood. “Come on, Concussion. You want to get kicked off the team so bad, this’ll do it!”

Daryl looked over to Michonne. “Christ, girl. You look like you need to relax.”

“Dick, Brain? You coming?”

Rick stood up and nodded to Glenn, encouraging him to follow. Rick had never smoked pot before and he was damn sure Glenn hadn’t. But five hours was a long damn time to have nothing to do.

They all walked back between some rows of books and sat in a circle as Daryl started rolling a joint.

“Michonne?” Rick said as they sat there waiting.

“Yeah?”

“What did you mean that you had to come here for you?”

She bit at a nail as everyone, including Daryl, stopped to watch her.

“What’s it matter?”

“We all got a story,” Glenn said. “Maybe if you tell us yours out loud it will help you write your paper later.”

Michonne laughed cynically and rolled her eyes.

“What did you do to get detention? Can you just tell us that?” Abe asked.

“I didn’t.”

“You didn’t what?” Daryl asked.

“I didn’t get detention. I just...needed to get away from home for a while.”

“Why?” Rick asked.

Michonne sat up strong and lifted her chin daring anyone to make a smart comment. “Because my baby is colicky and I had to take a break from his constant crying.”

“ _Your_ baby?” Glenn asked.

“Oh, I see,” Daryl said as he returned his attention to the joint he was rolling. “Somebody’s been laid flat and hammered hard.”

“So I have to ask,” Abraham said, leaning in conspiratorially. “When you knew...the forecast was for rain, did you hand out galoshes? Or did you all go barefoot?”

“Is that why you left?” Glenn asked. “Don’t get along with the father? Is he paying child support? Because that’s the law.”

“What’s the kid’s name?” Rick asked, trying to lob over an easier question.

She looked at Rick and attempted to smile but wasn’t very successful. “Andre.”

Daryl lifted the rolled joint to his mouth and lit it with a Led Zeppelin Zippo. After he inhaled, he handed it to Abe.

A stream of smoke came out of Daryl’s mouth as he asked. “Does the father even know?”

“Doubt it.” She reached across the circle, grabbed the joint from Abe, inhaled deeply and held the smoke in her lungs. As she inhaled she finished her sentence. “I was raped.”

You could hear a pin drop in that room it was so quiet. Michonne handed the joint to Glenn.

“For real?” Abe asked, all of them equally stunned.

“That’s why I had to get away. Couldn’t deal walking through those same hallways, seeing the place…” she dropped her sentence and took a deep breath.

“That why you have all those medications?” Glenn asked as he passed the joint to Rick. “Like PTSD?”

She nodded. “Other than my therapists and my parents I haven’t ever told anyone. Just stopped messaging with my old friends from Sanctuary City. Just wanted to disappear. Moving away was the best I could do.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Rick said, his brows still knit in shock and dismay.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I...I love Andre. He’s mine. My parents help me with him. They were the ones that insisted I keep the baby. They’re kinda conservative about that kind of thing.

“Damn, man. Pretty ballsy of them to make a decision like that for you,” Abe said as he took another puff of the joint and passed it back to Daryl.

“Can you like...give it up for adoption?” Daryl asked. “My Pa didn’t ever want me and I wish to God he’d have just given me up.”

Michonne wiped a tear away as she took the joint again. “I can’t now. I love him. It’s just hard. Being a mom so young. Always having to remember what I went through. But I’m tougher than this and I’m going to survive. I have to.”

“You get afraid?” Abraham asked. “Walking alone or around strange men?”

“Sometimes. That’s why I’m always carrying a knife,” she said with a smile. 

“You can still make friends here if you want,” Glenn said. “I’d be your friend.”

“Don’t be a moron, Brain. None of us run in the same circles. No one’s gonna walk out of here friends.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” Rick said.

“Oh yeah? What if I walked up to your table full of drama club dorks and sat down to have lunch with you. Would you want that? Would you want a kid from Quarrysville who ain’t showered in a few days because the water was turned off to sit next to all of you in your crew neck shirts and expensive sweaters?”

“I would like that,” Rick answered honestly. 

“Bullshit!” Daryl yelled. “None of you are gonna talk to me on Monday. None of you are gonna remember her name,” he said as he pointed out Michonne. 

“I wouldn’t mind being everyone’s friend,” Glenn muttered quietly. 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Abraham said, his voice sympathetic. “You don’t have any friends.”

Daryl finished the joint and pocketed the roach. “Well, enjoy your high kids. I’m gonna go find a book to cut open and hide some of this in for next Saturday.” Daryl stood and left the aisle.

“I wouldn’t let anyone ever hurt you like that again, Michonne. Don’t listen to that Dixon asshole. He’s nothing but negative,” Rick said.

“We all have our demons,” Michonne said.

“Are we feeling high yet?” Glenn asked as he held up his hand staring at it. “Do you guys think my hand is like too big? I think it’s bigger than my other one.”

“You’re feeling it,” Rick said. “Trust me.”

As Michonne started digging through her purse, Abe asking for a picture of Andre, Rick stood and walked up and down the aisles enjoying the lightness he felt. He wasn’t trying to lie to himself. He wasn’t aimlessly walking. He was trying to bump into Daryl.

It didn’t take long before he saw the boy sitting in a back aisle cutting a hiding place into a copy of Hamlet. Rick sat down across from him.

Daryl flicked his eyes up to look at Rick. The sight of that flash of blue from under his shaggy bangs gave Rick butterflies.

“I’m sorry he hits you,” Rick said, searching for something to start a conversation.

“Sorry you got fucked over so much ‘bout coming out,” he answered as he kept his eye on his handiwork.

“That’s nothing,” Rick insisted.

Daryl stopped and looked up at him. “It ain’t nothing. You know what _my_ old man would have done if I came out? It wouldn’t have been angry storming off or not talking. He would have beat me until I stopped breathing and that ain’t no exaggeration.”

Daryl held Rick’s eyes, neither of them able to pull away quite yet. 

“Haven’t you ever had someone to love you?” Rick asked.

“I don’t need that shit. I’m fine on my own,” Daryl growled. “Besides, I can’t or he’ll kill me.”

Rick cocked his head. “Can’t what? ...Daryl, are you gay?”

Daryl held his pocket knife up at Rick. “You repeat it and that cute face of yours will be unrecognizable.”

“Wow,” Rick said in surprise. “You know, you’ll be able to get away from the old man soon. And you should come out. You have no idea what you’re missing getting to be yourself. Your real self.

“Ain’t never gonna have that, Rick. Ain’t nobody gonna love a Dixon. Ain’t nobody gonna _kiss_ a Dixon.”

Rick watched as Daryl stuffed the baggie of weed in the center of the damaged book and closed the cover. When he looked back up, Rick was still watching him. After a few moments of shared silence as they looked at one another, Rick leaned forward and Daryl didn’t move a muscle. He was frozen in place, his eyes unblinking, his lips parting for breath. And that’s when Rick leaned all the way in and pressed his lips to Daryl’s for a chaste, gentle kiss. 

When Rick pulled back, Daryl was still frozen in place. “Why?” he asked as he licked the taste of Rick from his lips.

“Cause there’s more in you than you think there is. And I’d like to get to know the real Daryl Dixon.”

“Ain’t never gonna buy you no roses,” Daryl said.

“I’m allergic.”

“Gotta stay in the closet, man. I’m serious about my Pa.”

“I don’t mind hiding for you.”

“I don’t even see how it would work,” Daryl said, disappointment in his voice that he probably felt more than he let on.

“Maybe I can punch someone in the face again this week. Meet you here next Saturday?” Rick said with a coy grin.

Daryl couldn’t help but return the smile. “You’re insane.”

“I know how it feels to fall for someone, to get to know them, to learn what they like and how they feel. I want you to know those things.”

“But why?”

“Because I like you, Daryl.”

“Your friends ain’t gonna like me.”

“I don’t need anyone’s permission. And I think if you took the time to get to know them, and they took the time to get to know you...there’d be a lot less division around this school.” When Rick looked up to meet Daryl’s eyes, he saw a tear spill over.

“Thought you said you never cried,” Rick said as he caught the tear on his finger and brushed his thumb gently over Daryl’s cheek.

“Don’t cry when I’m being hated. Never been liked before. It’s new.”

Rick scooted closer and put a hand in Daryl’s hair as he kissed his lips open and dipped in his tongue. His lips rolled against Daryl’s like ocean waves, smooth and easy. He heard Daryl gasp softly in his mouth.

Rick finally pulled back, waiting to see what Daryl’s response was. The other boy tried not to smile like it was a forbidden act. “You have nice lips,” Daryl said.

“You have a nice smile. You should wear it more often. Give the chip on your shoulder a rest.”

\-------------------------

With still another hour to go, Rick and Daryl were sitting on the floor, shoulder to shoulder as Rick showed the other boy how to play Candy Crush.

“But why? Why are we crushing candy? I mean, I get racing games and hunting games. I even kinda get Pac-Man. But crushing candy?”

Rick giggled at him as Michonne and Abe played another round of Uno with a pack of cards they found in one of the drawers. 

“Hey, Glenn,” Abe said as he looked over. “Are you really gonna write that essay?”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know, I was just thinking. Why does he need five different ones. Maybe you can like… just write it for all of us.”

Abe looked at Michonne and she nodded her head in agreement. 

“I don’t mind. I’m really good at essays.” Glenn looked over at Rick and Daryl. “That okay with you guys?”

They both nodded, smiling. 

“Thanks, Glenn,” Daryl said.

As Glenn started over with a new sheet of paper, Rick pulled up his playlist. “Wanna listen to some music?”

Daryl glared at the phone then at Rick. “You got anything worth listening to?”

“Got a mix of everything really. But you know the best part about listening to music together with the same set of earbuds?”

“What?” Daryl asked, his rough exterior finally a little softer and his voice sweet and naive.

“An excuse to sit close,” Rick said as he scooted even closer to Daryl and handed him the other earbud.

They sat listening to Rick’s playlist on Shuffle, occasionally murmuring to each other about whatever thoughts came up from the songs, but they sat close and still, holding hands as the last song played before the 5:30 dismissal. It was eerie in its timing and Rick dreaded letting go of Daryl’s hand as the song played.

_Tell me your troubles and doubts  
Giving me everything inside and out and  
Love's strange so real in the dark  
Think of the tender things that we were working on_

And the chorus repeated, _Don't you, forget about me  
Don't, don't, don't, don't  
Don't you, forget about me_

When the day finally ended, Michonne, Abe and Glenn’s rides got there first first. Rick and Daryl waited. 

“What’s your dad drive?” Rick asked.

“He don’t. License suspended. I’m walking.”

“You want a ride? My dad will take you.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah. No need to cause extra trouble for you, and my Pa would beat me all night trying to figure out who dropped me off.”

Rick leaned over and gave Daryl another brush of lips and slipped a piece of paper in his hands. Daryl opened it up.

“It’s my number,” Rick said. “Maybe you can add me to your contacts on that burner phone you got at home. Send me some heart emoji’s.”

Daryl smiled. Rick could get used to that smile and as the Grimes’ vehicle pulled up, Daryl walked away, holding up a peace sign as he did.

==================

Negan grumbled as he cleaned up some abandoned Uno cards and plucked gum off of one of the desks. “Little bastards.”

At the front table lay one single essay with a pencil on top that was sharpened down to the nub. Negan picked it up and read.

Dear Principal Negan,

You asked us who we think we are. We don’t think that’s a fair question. You already think you know who we are- a brain, an athlete, a queer, a delinquent and a nobody. Nothing we tell you will make you see us any other way and that says more about you than it does about us. 

What’s really scary is the possibility of us seeing each other through the same lens you use. To see ourselves narrowed into types and groups and clicks.

We are all unique. You only see what you want to see because it’s easy. You don’t know what’s really in us. A delinquent can fall in love. A nobody can have a tragic past. What isn’t easy is to look at someone not like you and to try to understand what it’s like to walk in their shoes. You may find that you have more in common than you ever realized.

The world creates these divisions and groups. None of us grow up planning to be categorized the way you see us. We just want to be ourselves.

So who do we think we are?

We are struggling. We want better things for our future. We want to be heard and understood. We want to be loved. We want happier lives. We have regrets but we also have hope. 

We won’t be in high school forever. And a few years from now we are all confident that you won’t even recognize us. We are all young students with dreams and hopes. With sadness and hurt. With anger and happiness. We are not better or worse than one another. We are equal. And we will all grow to be better human beings than you are.

Sincerely,

The Breakfast Club

**Author's Note:**

> The Parenting fic is completed and is being finished up in beta. Should be out later this week.  
> The "Back where we came from fic" is completed but it will take a while for the beta because it's longer. Lotr58 will be jumping in on those two for beta services.
> 
> And as always, I've got plenty of other things in the hopper!
> 
> Would love to hear what you thought of this mash up!! As always, thanks for reading!


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